Dead and BackPrologue

Desc: Action/Adventure Sex Story: Prologue - Young Desmond died a violent death. He didn't stay that way though - somehow, he came back a vampire. He must now adapt to his new condition, while investigating his own murder and how he was turned.

Cassandra looked down at the sleeping boy on the bed beside her. The music, loud cheering and boisterous voices coming from crowded the street outside, though considerable, were not enough to disturb him.

After all they had done tonight it was no wonder that all of Mardi Gras couldn't interrupt the boy's rest.

No ... not a boy. He was certainly young, still a teenager fresh out of high school in fact, but there was a definite promise of rugged handsomeness in his features, fervent passion in his voice and deep intelligence behind his eyes. And of course, he was fortunately gifted with the vigor and unbridled enthusiasm which seemed exclusive to the young, as well as the patient willingness to learn.

No ... he was definitely a young man, and he would some day grow to be a great one, she was sure of it.

"Such great promise in one so young," she murmured musingly, incapable of keeping a slight smile off of her lips.

She had been surprised when she found herself so drawn to him. Her usual liaisons tended to be with much more mature and experienced men, with greater depths in them to be explored. So when this youngster approached her table outside a local bar, she had been completely prepared to unceremoniously send him on his way, as she had many times before.

Though he showed confidence, he didn't bluster, use clichéd pickup lines or innuendos like many his age might have. He simply walked up to her, introduced himself and asked if he could join her, displaying a surprisingly gentlemanly manner. There was just something about him ... she couldn't say exactly what, even now. Intrigued, she had accepted his company, at least for a short while.

He had been genuinely surprised at that. Though outwardly confident, she could tell that he was a nervous wreck inside. Cassandra knew quite well that she was beautiful, gorgeous even, and enjoyed taking full advantage of the affect she could have on men, and even some women. Though she could clearly tell that he was very attracted to her, he controlled himself quite well. He made pleasant, witty and intelligent conversation for some time, simply pleased to share her company, not really expecting anything more to develop. And to her eternal surprise and delight, she genuinely enjoyed his company as well.

Her musing was interrupted by the bedroom door opening.

"Madame, it is about time we prepared-" her steward Simon stopped what he was saying abruptly, still half out the door.

It was not the sight of the naked Cassandra on the bed that took him aback, nor was it her equally naked companion. After years in her service, he was quite used to her comfort with nudity and with the presence of the occasional visitor to her bedroom. What truly stunned him into momentary silence was the presence of very noticeable smears of dried blood on his neck, both their mouths and forearms.

He knew that those could mean only one thing...

"What have you done?" He asked, shock and confusion evident both in his voice and on his face. He knew exactly what she had done, of course, but for the life of him, could not understand why.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure myself," she responded calmly, but with a warning look to her eyes.

"Pardonnez-moi Madame..." Simon had the good sense to be embarrassed. Though she was an extremely kind and permissive mistress and he knew that she had come to look at him as some sort of adopted family, he also knew that he had clearly overstepped his bounds. "Mais, if I may ask ... why?"

She was silent for a few moments, reflecting seriously on the question. Her hand idly caressed the still sleeping young man's chest.

"There is something about this one." Cassandra said softly and tenderly, looking down at him. "A strength ... no, a certain noblesse, that is rarely found in this modern world."

"The chances of him actually changing..." he left the rest unsaid. She knew that it was very unlikely, much better than he did.

"But there is a chance." She stated, voice firm and decided now. "And if he does change, he would be a great ally."

"If you believe it to be so Madame," he responded dubiously and then sighed resignedly. "As I was saying, it is time we prepared for our departure. The others are restless to move on."

She too sighed now. This liaison had delayed their timetable and Simon had been considerate enough to hold off for so long. She had responsibilities, after all.

"Oui, I suppose it is. Give me a few moments and I will join you."

Simon bowed his head in response and left, closing the door behind him.

Cassandra lithely got up out of bed, pleasantly surprised to realize that she'd much rather lie back down, then entered the bathroom and showered. After drying herself and redressing, she approached the bed and the young man's sleeping form once more. With a damp cloth she cleaned away the blood that had dried around his mouth, on his neck and the now completely healed cut that had been on his forearm.

With him completely clean, Cassandra leaned down toward him, cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips deeply. Brushing her lips by his ear, she whispered, "Forget me Desmond," pushing power into her words. She was unable to mask the twinge of sadness and regret in her voice. Despite whatever her heart might wish for, she knew that it was unlikely that they would ever meet again.

Steeling herself, she then turned around, left the room to rejoin her companions and prepare for their departure.